- Erotic Poetry
- Tinderbox
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He is crackling heat
behind blue eyes
and furrowed brow,
a tinderbox
waiting to ignite.
I want him
to gather my hair
tress by tress,
sweetly lull, and
yank
to expose
crook where shoulder
meets neck.
I want him
to have me pinned
to kitchen counter,
held by hair
wrenched tight and
his cock against my back.
I want
his lips
poised over crook,
breath hot and patient,
making me wait until
my nipples are hard and
I’m already wet when
he grants my release,
lowers mouth to skin.
I want him
to own me,
piece by piece,
undone.
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